READY, DOCTOR?
by EusYram
Summary: Bruce is captured by Scarecrow and the Joker. Contains slight Joker/Scarecrow slash.


The lights turned on suddenly. Blindingly white, and right above Bruce Wayne's head. He jumped, suddenly aware of his surroundings. And all at once, he wished that he hadn't woken up. Feeling sick, Bruce realized that he was lying, sprawled on his back, on a steel table. Leather straps bound him to the cold metal, around his limbs, head, and waist. He felt increasing dread as he slowly began to understand where he was. It was an operating room, with white-washed walls, and a slightly-stale smell. It looked as if though it hadn't been used for a number of years.

The examination light above his head bore into his eyeballs with excruciating pain. He attempted to fight the straps that fastened him to the bare operating table, but couldn't. He was beginning to fear that his circulation would be soon cut off, when a detail caught his attention. He was still wearing his Bat-Suit. And then a terrible realization struck him - his mask was gone, and his face revealed to his captors. He strained against his bonds once more, anger boiling in his veins. Who did this to him? What made him even angrier is that he couldn't remember a single thing of what had happened before he had woken up in this abandoned hospital.

"Now, now, I wouldn't do that, Mr. Wayne," said a voice to his side. It was calm and sweet, and Bruce knew that it belonged to somebody he knew, but he couldn't remember who. Neither could he move his head to get a look at the person. He fought his restrains viciously.

"I'm sorry I had to gas you, Mr. Wayne," the voice continued soothingly, "but Batman was being terribly un-co-operative and it was for your own good, really." Finally, the owner of the silky voice stepped into Bruce's line of vision. He wore a medical coat, and pale-blue medical gloves. A pair of turquoise eyes stared into Bruce's own, from behind a pair of glasses. The anger Bruce was experiencing accumulated to a maximum point, and he let it out with a deafening

"CRANE!!!"

Jonathan Crane watched Bruce writhe on the operating table, the leather straps creaking.

"I would have never expected _Bruce Wayne_, _the _Bruce Wayne, to be behind that frightening mask of Batman's…. Gotham's billionaire playboy, a vigilante? It's quite unsettling - the surprises some of the _elite _have up their sleeves…."

"And do you also find it unsettling that even the _elite vigilantes _can be brought down with the proper application of fear-toxin, and a good laugh on the side?" came a second, sarcastic voice, once again out of Bruce's sight.

"No, that I just find humorous, my dear."

Bruce was nearly frothing at the mouth by this time. It may have taken him a while to recognize who the first person to speak was, but no amounts of fear-toxin could prevent him from recognizing the voice of the second. Every single muscle in his body clenched as that person came into view. The white face paint, the scarred mouth, and the maniacal smile, outlined in red, were all familiar to Bruce. However, the Joker wore an auburn wig over the usual pale-green hair. Grinning at Bruce, the Joker ran a caressing hand through Crane's hair as he went to stand beside him. The Joker, too, wore pale-blue medical gloves, but instead of a doctor's coat, he wore a nurse's uniform. A white dress, that, surprisingly-enough, the Joker pulled-off very well. Scarecrow cast an approving look up and down the Joker's body.

"You look stunning," he said, locking eyes with his nurse. Then he threw his arms around the Joker's neck, while the Joker wrapped his arms around Scarecrow's waist. And then, to Bruce's greatest horror, they kissed, full on the mouth, with a passion that even Bruce was unfamiliar with. The kiss lasted for a long, passionate moment. Finally, the pair separated, and turned to face Bruce. Crane was slightly pink, and there was a fire in his aqua-blue eyes that told of the insanity of love. He wiped his red-smeared mouth on the sleeve of his robes.

"Now, tell me, Mr. Wayne, do you find us.. unsettling?" Crane asked, as the Joker played with his dark, wavy hair, "Us, 'villains', also have a couple of, um, surprises.. up our sleeves." Unable to say anything, Bruce watched Crane reach for something to his side, and gasped as a second later, a scalpel hovered an inch above his face.

"Perhaps," Crane continued, casting a playful look at the Joker, "I can carve a smile into your constantly-frowning face?"

"Or perhaps," the Joker suddenly interrupted, also reaching to the side, and retrieving a syringe, "I should give you some, er, _strong _medicine?" Joker squirted blood-red liquid out of the syringe, and him and Scarecrow exchanged a look of amusement at Bruce's apparent alarm. "It's time for your check-up," Joker crooned. Bruce watched in silent horror as the Joker stepped behind Jonathan, and put his arm over his shoulder. Then, he leaned in close to Jonathan's ear, and whispered sweetly

"Ready, Doctor?"


End file.
